Defective Dog

pawprint

MAMA VICKY SAYS…

I want my money back! You sold me a defective dog.

I have been robbed! I was tricked into buying Mr. Pete. The seller wasn’t honest, and my animal loving daughter gave me her pleading puppy dog eyes, and so I ended up with a dog from a Mexican puppy mill (We had sworn we would never buy from a mill.) who turned out to be a stinking Chihuahua with literally a birth defect. But that is just the tip of the iceberg. It would have helped greatly if I had I known street Spanish. (I speak medical Spanish.)

We get home with the little puppy, pull off the blanket, and I realize that this is not a golden lab at all. It’s an ankle biter! He also came with a ½ inch bald spot on his right side. When I felt the spot it has a teeny weeny hump in the middle of it. Because this is a family friendly blog, I will use the adult term for what it reminds me of – a vestigial nipple. Oh my gosh! We bought a hermaphrodite dog! After giving the dog more than one once over, it was clear he had no other interesting structures of that nature. And we did have to get him neutered.

That is his obvious physical defect. Do you know how old it gets having to assure each veterinarian that he visits that he was born with this and it is not cancer? They just don’t seem to believe me.

He has several other interesting/annoying traits. People who don’t own him think those habits are endearing, but if this was their dog, they would definitely find his oddities annoying and frustrating. For example, walking Mr. Pete can be a pain in the flying buttress! He weighs 6 pounds on a good day. Yet, when big dogs come near him he not only barks at them but the hackles on his back stand up, and if he didn’t have a leash on, he would charge at them. He challenges them. One of these big canines would make an appetizer out of him in 1 bite. We have been unable to get him to break this habit. He has a Napoleon complex and needs a doggy psychiatrist. By the way, Mr. Pete did flunk obedience school.

Who’s dog empties his bladder doing a handstand? I want to find one other dog that does this. It’s either a phenomenon or an anomaly, depending on how you look it at. If I were a You Tube kind of person, I guess I could film it and put in on the internet. It would probably go viral, but I don’t want millions of people to associate me with Mr. Pete. I am serious. He does handstands to urinate. He even walks a couple of steps on his front legs. I do get a chuckle when he is a bit off balance and tips into a bush. (I know. I am evil.)

He also does not get the concept of playing fetch. He has a rope toy. When it is thrown he will go get it, but he either will bring it back but not let go of it, or he gets it and then lays down and chews on it. He understands when he is told to get his rope, but he doesn’t understand the words “drop it.” Remember, he flunked puppy training.

He used to fit in a small purse and that was kind of cute. Now he doesn’t, even though he is small. Oh, by the way, we were told by the evil woman who sold us the dog that he was a miniature model. Miniature, my eye. For a small dog he sure can hog my bed. He rarely sleeps with his real mother, Daphne. If I want to roll over, there is this lump in the center of the bed that doesn’t budge. I actually awaken a bit and physically have to push him out of the spot my belly is wanting to occupy. Oh, and he doesn’t want to sleep under the sheets. No, not him. He expects the comforter to be lifted so that he can climb under it and be between the layers of the bed. Gee whiz! I get no respect from my children, and I don’t even get any from the family dog!

He barks like a maniac and has not responded to any methods to shut him up. I am certain that at least one of our neighbors hates him. I can understand that. And no one that I have offered to give him to has accepted. He’s 56 in people years and has definitely not shown any maturity. Well, I guess that’s not such a big deal. I know several men that old who show no maturity either.

I have a feeling that I will never get a refund, find the lying wench who sold him to us so I can punch her in the nose, nor will he take 1st place in the Westminster Kennel Club competition. What’s a mother to do?

Bow wow! Bow wow! Blog you later!

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